East Bank of Euphrates
The fish are very angry, and wish the sun would finally stop, Robbing their already depleted river, drop by evaporating drop, They know not, why their water, is vanishing with a shroud, And then sun cannot tell them, it is
Perfect Harmony
A different language, where letters are unnecessary, One where words are dispensable, a mere accessory, Where every single word is complete in itself, And no sentence is required to express oneself. Where the silence speaks louder than any word, And